If Only I Had
by OmissionSoul
Summary: A One Shot inspired by two songs. [Crenny] Rated T for language.


_**A/N: This fic was inspired by the two songs listed below.**_

 _ **Terrible Things - Mayday Parade**_

 _ **No Control - Set It Off**_

* * *

It's a dull day, and the sting of winter nips at my nose. I exhale a breath and it does a brief dance in the air, before dissipates. A familiar sound goes off and I check my pocket, pulling out my cell phone a bit and am greeted with the words 'Unknown Caller'. I put it back into my pocket, already knowing who it is, but unable to answer its voice. I push off the railing I'm leaning on, and walk away from a view that overlooks the town of South Park.

It's quiet as I head down a street, but there's a subtle voice in the back of my head that I want to ignore.

"Hey!"

A sudden voice breaks the silence. Another that I don't want to hear right now.

"Fuck," I mummer.

"Yo—When are you going to stop aimlessly walking around and just go see him already?!" the owner of this voice, Clyde, yells at me. But I ignore it. " Are you even listening?!" his annoyance grows with me when I don't answer."Look you—"

"Uh, hey," A new voice interrupts, one that I know to belong to Stan. "What's up?" he asks as he approaches us, with Kyle by his side.

"Nothing..." I respond and push past Clyde.

"Hey! Wait—" Clyde starts again.

But I don't give him a chance to finish as I take off running down the street, no longer wanting to hear about this topic anymore.

Eventually, I come to a stop and catch my breath near a street lamp, but it stops as footsteps rush up from behind me.

 _Guess I didn't get away far enough._

"Kenny?" another voice, who I knew belonged to Kyle asks, "Are you okay?" he adds, trying to catch his own breath.

"Yes." I respond, but keep my back to him.

"Are you sure?" he asks approaching me.

"Yes," I repeat.

"Then why did you run away?" he asks and I don't reply. He hesitates for a moment before adding, "Was it about about going to visit—"

"Kyle." I cut him off.

"Sorry..." he apologizes, "But, why don't you go and visit him?"

"Because." I say tensing.

"Because why?" he asks back. He wanted me to elaborate on it, but when I don't, he lets out a sigh, " Kenny, I don't know why you can't just go and see him. Don't you—"

"Because!" I bite out, "Maybe I don't want to see him attached to all that stupid machinery! And looking so goddamn ill alright?!" Kyle's eyes widen and he seems a bit taken aback by my sudden outburst as a silence falls between us.

"Kenny I—" he starts, but I don't want to hear it.

"Just forget it," I tell him, and walk away.

This time, his footsteps don't follow me.

 _ **...**_

I enter my bedroom and close the door behind me as I do. There's a hole near it, and I try my best not to pay attention to it, but my gaze lingers on it, and the faint tinges of frustration, anger and fear swirl in me. I force my eyes away from it and head over to my bed. I lie onto my back and let out a heavy sigh.

As I close my eyes, old memories start to play out in my mind.

The image of a friend wearing a blue chullo hat comes to mind. _Craig._ We were pretty close to one another, despite the occasional fights we had, but what friendship doesn't have a few of those? We were friends for many years now, and that's how I thought it would always stay as, but... I started to notice how my chest would get tight, or my breathing would catch whenever I was around him. I soon put the pieces of how I felt about him together, and after a long constant debate, decided that I was going to tell him how I felt, regardless of how he would take it.

So when the day came for me to tell him, we were passing through the park. I had never felt as nervous about something as I did that day. His eyes were scanning the surroundings, before they flicked over to me and he smiled, the sun was bright and he almost seemed to radiate. He was like a brilliant star that shone brightly to me. But just as I finally mustered up the courage to tell him, he collapsed on to the ground. I was confused, at first I wasn't sure what just happened, but when I leaned down to check on him, and realized that his eyes weren't opening, I began to panic. I tried to wake him, but all of my attempts failed, so I called 911 not knowing what else to do. I had thought that maybe he passed out from something like food deprivation or dehydration, because he told me he hadn't consumed anything that day, but no... It was worse than that, much worse.

He was sick.

I found out after he called me, from regaining consciousness in hospital. When I asked how long had he been sick, he just told me for awhile now. There was anger seeping through me, anger at myself for not realizing that he was like this. How could I care about someone so much, but have been so blind by such a thing? How did I never once notice it? I ended up boiling over so much afterwards, that my fist made contact with the wall. Marking it with everything I felt.

These events happened two and a half weeks ago, and he's been in the hospital ever since that day, his sickness taking a turn for the worse, and him needing to stay there till he was stabilized.

I open my eyes halfway, recalling how every time Clyde has gone to visit him, Craig would always ask about me. I can tell that Clyde is starting to get frustrated on why I won't just go and see him. And I understand that. But, I just can't bear the idea of seeing Craig lying in a hospital bed and being attached to a machine, while looking so ill. And I know it's childish of me. But I just can't do it. People always say you need to be strong for those you care about, but I know that if I see him like that, I will be anything but that.

My thoughts travel elsewhere as I pull out my cell phone and look at it, the message on the screen reading, 'Two Missed Calls' _._ I let out another sigh and put an arm over my eyes, blocking out any light in the room.

 _I'm such a terrible person, I can't even answer his calls anymore without the feeling that I'll break down and cry, just from hearing his voice._

When I'm the one who suffers the pain of this curse I have, and dies, I'm alright with it for the most part. Yeah it sucks like hell having to feel pain each and every time, but at least I know I'll be back in the end. Fuck, I even went through a similar situation like this once. But seeing this from the other side, with someone who I care about so much go through this, for me, it hurts more than death itself. Even thinking about it, hurts too fucking much.

I roll over to my side, wanting to turn off my thoughts and not think anymore about anything. So I don't, and soon sleep takes me away.

 _ **...**_

I wake to the sound of loud buzzing next to my ear. It takes a second for me to process that's it's my cell phone vibrating. I check who the hell it is calling me, and the word 'Kyle' is across the screen. I decide to answer it and ask him what he wants at—I glance quickly at the time—2:35- _fucking-_ a.m.

"What?" I groan annoyed in to the phone.

"Kenny! Finally! Clyde tried to call and tell you—but says you're not answering any of his calls, so he asked me to do it instead—"

"Look, if you're going to start on me about—" I cut him off, annoyed by where I think this is headed but don't get a chance to finish.

"Craig's condition has gotten worse," he tells me, and my heart stops. "I've been trying to reach you for the past forty-five minutes now. Clyde had called me and told me that Craig's sister told him, that Craig's condition suddenly got worse and they're not sure why. He's in critical condition now." the world around me starts to spin, a growing fear sets in and a sudden urge arises. "Kenny? Are you there—"

I hang up, then get up fast, rushing with adrenaline. My mind doesn't even process what's next, as my body moves on its own, out the door, and to the hospital.

 _ _I'm such a fucking idiot!__

 ** _..._**

When I arrive at the hospital, out of breath with burning lungs and legs, I rush to Craig's room. But when I get to it, he's not there. At first I think I may have gotten the wrong room number, but it was the one I had written down, and he had given me over the phone before. I quickly scan the wing for the reception desk in it. Once I spot it, I head over to it right away.

"Can you tell me what happened to a patient named Craig Tucker in this wing please?!" I say urgently.

"Are you family?" the woman behind the desk asks, and I feel frustrated by it.

"Look can you tell me or not?!"

She looks at some papers and replies, "I'm sorry sir, but that patient isn't allowed visitors at the moment right now. They are currently in the emergency wing, in surgery—"

But before she can finish, I quickly take off running to the emergency wing.

When I reach it, I begin a frantic search for whatever signs I can find that will lead me to him.

 _ _Where, Where, WHERE?!__

Someone says his last name, a nurse, rushing down the hall and I follow them. They enter a room with double doors, and I end up following them right into the room, not thinking straight with all the adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

"Excuse me sir you can't be in here!" One of the nurses tells me, spotting me right away.

But their voice is distant, as my eyes land on the operating table where Craig lies.

For a moment, everything around me freezes in time. My sense of awareness becoming dull and distant as a wave of emotions take over. His eyes were still closed, just like on that day, I wanted them open though, I wanted to see his eyes open again! I didn't want to see him lying there, so motionless and still like that! I wanted him to open his eyes!

"Craig!" I shout and try to reach him. But before I can make another move, I am grabbed by some of the assistants in the room. "No! Let me go!" I struggle to break free. I needed him to open his eyes again, I need him to smile like before, I needed him to come back home like everything was alright. "Craig!"

"Sir, you need to leave," One of the assistants holding me back says.

"Craig!" I yell again. I didn't want to leave, not after finally seeing him again after so long. "No! Let me see him! _Please!_ "

"Get him out of here!" The surgeon at the table orders.

I didn't want to leave him again, and I fight with everything I have in order not to be moved, but I'm out numbered and eventually they force me out, despite my pleads and sobs.

 _ **...**_

Some time later, I find myself sitting in the waiting area of the wing. They told me I would be notified when he was out of surgery, but haven't heard anything yet, despite how much time has passed now. I fidget constantly having a hard time keeping still, but I'm much calmer now than I was before at least. Still though, the waiting is driving me nuts and I can't stop thinking about needing to see him.

 _God I was such an idiot._

"So now you show up?" my train of thought is interrupted and I glance up to a highly irritated Clyde. "When it's the last possible second, you choose to show up? When it might already be to—"

"Shut up!" I scream, "Don't you think... that I'm already well aware of that?" my fist clenches, and I hold it still with the other hand to calm myself.

"Then why did you wait so long?"

"I was afraid." I tell him and avoid his harsh glare.

"Of what?" he asks.

"Of seeing him like that, all sick and frail. It scares me... and I didn't want to remember him like that."

There's a brief pause.

"That may be how you feel but, had you even stop to think about how he felt during all of this? Do you have any idea how many times he asked to see you? But all you did was think about yourself? It was pretty selfish of you." Clyde tells me.

"I know..." I reply.

There's another pause before he lets out a long sigh.

"Come on then, let's go see how he's doing."

"Isn't he still in surgery?" I ask confused.

"He's out now, but his condition is still a bit unsteady," he explains.

"I wasn't told he was out," I say irritated and stand up.

"That's probably because you busted in on his surgery like a deranged psycho," he tells me.

"Wait... you heard about that?" I ask.

"The whole damn hospital has heard of it," he informs me as we walk down the hall.

 **...**

When we reach Craig's room and go in, there are three people standing around his bed. Craig's mother, father and sister. His mother and sister look up at us, but his his father keeps his gaze downwards. Clyde offers a weak smile to them as we walk over. When I reach the side of Craig's bed it takes me a moment to take in the whole sight. His eyes are still closed and he has a breathing tube connected to his nose, and an IV tube connected to his arm. There's a subtle beeping of the cardiac monitor in the background, and my chest tightens at it all. I try my best to stay calm though, both for my sake and his family's, but this was proving to be difficult.

"How's he doing?" Clyde asks and Craig's mother shakes her head.

"Not so well, but I'm sure he'd be glad that you came to see him," she says with a sad smile and Clyde returns it. She then looks at me, and I return it too.

There's a growing part of me that wants to say something to Craig, but feel a bit awkward about it with his family around. Although, it seems like Clyde senses this because he asks them if we can have a moment to talk to him. The mother nods her head and gestures for the father and sister to leave the room. When they leave, I approach the side of Craig's bed and lightly hold his hand in mine, Clyde then walks away a bit and gives me some privacy.

"Hey there Craig, I'm not sure if you can hear me or not but... I know that it took me awhile to finally get around to come and see you, and I know that I've been acting like a dumbass too, but I promise to change that and not be one anymore, okay? I'm sorry." I say and squeeze his hand.

I reach my free hand to his face and brush some of his hair to the side, then bring it down to his cheek and cup it, and a soft smile forms on my lips.

"You know the other day when we were hanging out I wanted to tell you something, and I'm not sure how you'll take it but, I want you to know anyways." I tell him in a much lower tone, then lean down close to his ear, not wanting anyone else to hear it. "Craig... I love you."

I move away a bit, and for a split second I could swear that the ghost of a smile almost appears across his lips. But my attention is drawn elsewhere as a loud, long, beep goes off. It takes me a moment to register that it's the cardiac monitor, and that it's flatlined.

My heart sinks as I'm consumed by dread.

"No..." I whisper out and Clyde rushes over, "No!" I shout as my eyes sting and tears well up in them and Craig's family rushes back into the room then to see what's happening. "No no no!" a commotion starts and the tears start to roll down my face, burning as they do so.

 _ _This can't be happening! Open your eyes! You need to open them again! I need to see them again! It can't end like this!__

 _ _Craig!__

 _ **…**_

 _ **Two Weeks Later**_

It's another dull day as I lean against the railing in the same area as before. My gaze isn't focused on anything in particular, not the town, the snow or clouds, it's distant, like me. I close my sore eyes as my breath dissipates once again, recollecting everything that happened.

Right after Craig flatlined, a nurse came rushing in with a doctor and we all had to leave the room. Then a short while later the doctor came out and told us the news of Craig passing away after they tried their best to resuscitate him, but he remained unresponsive. Then there were tears. A lot of them.

A funeral was held four days later, were more tears were shed, but all I could feel at it was regret and anger. Anger at myself for not going to see him sooner.

He was gone now, and all I can think about are the what ifs? I get swallowed more in my guilt and regrets thinking of, if only I had gone to see him more, or if only I had spent more time with him instead of be a afraid or, how if only I had... Kissed him when I had the chance to.

Tears begin to well up again, stinging at my eyes. I tilt my head towards the sky and try to will them away. Another thought arises in my mind, and part of me wonders if maybe he was hanging on to life to see me again, or for me to see him once more, and if so, part of me also feels like I shouldn't have gone to see him then.

No. He was in pain, I'm sure of it, and doing that would've been selfish of me.

"Craig, I'm sorry," I whisper out to myself and close my eyes. "If only I understood your feelings more, or sooner."

A cold breeze goes by and open my eyes as a small leaf is carried away by the wind.

 _ _If only I had...__


End file.
